“How much do I want to play into the fact that my culture’s been so much of my life, and how much do I want to say f*ck it, I want to do something completely and utterly reactionary?”

I would agree to say that this sentiment is evident throughout the sensibilities of us native New Yorkers who have enjoyed years of being at the forefront of culture, but are now at the crossroads of nostalgia and progression; the recurring theme of “upholding culture” doesn’t always fit well with the implications of the “on to the next one” plight of today.

HOWEVER…

There are certain instances where they meet perfectly- basketball is definitely one of those examples. This summer, we, the once gatekeepers of the global epicenter- its MECCA-, have been engaged more than ever with the culture of basketball. Between The LeBromination, the World Basketball Festival (which hosted some of the fr-fr-freshest events I’ve attended this summer. Shouts to 94×50 & Nike for looking out..), and the myriad of tournaments that turn the playgrounds into the proverbial hollowed grounds, there are feelings of an imminent return to glory.

Rik Cordero’s attentive eye and the homie Lemon Andersen’s ultra-focused prose have essentially, in one clip, visualized this locally-focused, globally-minded “get down or lay down” sensibility in their self-described “ode to NYC” entitled “The Imperial”.

The Good Lord knows I’m as New York as they come, and this “25th Hour-esque” juxtaposed lens on our daily lives is remarkable, and is living proof that reports of our fall from grace have been greatly exaggerated.

I’m truly looking forward to their next two interpretations.

While the rest of New York City was undergoing a phenomenal blizzard last week, HBO hosted a screening for hyped “How To Make It In America” in Chinatown.

[BTW, I had an opportunity to weigh in my thoughts on the show for AOL's new site, The BVX. Proceed when you have a chance.]

As a true reflection of downtown New York City’s “on to the next one” social scene that serves as the show’s crux (which usually brings you to the most random and obscure of venues and domiciles), the event was executed in an unmarked (there goes that word again) building on Eldridge Street, complete with weird lobby and manual elevator operator. The space was revealed to be a very quaint loft/gallery, adorned with art and a slew of people who look like they could easily been cast for the show.

I had to bounce before the screening began, but I’m sure it was the same show that I saw two weeks ago! HA!

Peace to Cornerstone/FADER for bringing that to life.

Earlier this week, the really good folks at 94×50 & NSW flexed their creative + marketing muscles and allowed me to partake in a very uniquely curated one-night experience.

It basically happened like this…. a delivery man showed up to my office with a mysterious paper bag (with the exception of my name etched in Sharpie, it was unmarked). I opened the bag, and removed its contents-  a miniature orange Nike box, suited for either a baby or  an adult with abnormally tiny feet. Inside the box was a burner (if you don’t know what that means, please watch The Wire), and a strip of paper with instructions to text my name to a random number. It texted me back with a time and address.

Now, there aren’t many brands that could pull of a Matrix-esque invitation process and keep the mystique (and expectations) high, but if there is one thing I know, it’s to never ever-ever-ever-ever-ever come here no more doubt Nike.

I showed up to said location, my expectations wide open, and there was a party bus waiting on the corner. Jumped on the bus, and saw a bunch of colleagues, friends, and influential people I hold in high regard on board. I sat down next to the homie Jonathan Mannion, and asked him what this was all about, to which he responded, “I have no idea”. If he didn’t know, it was safe to assume nobody did.

The bus took about 20 of us to Tompkins Park, where Bobbito (random!) was in the middle of the playground, along with a bag of DD hot chocolate. After greeting everyone, he kicked off the evening with anecdotes on his career, and the role that the Air Force One played throughout. (Light bulb!) I know a lot of self-proclaimed and industry-recognized sneaker/cultural anthropologists/historians, but I’ve never encountered someone who is as genuine about his affinity for sneakers, their underlying stories, and their cultural relevance, as this man. As a marketer in a volatile industry (and consumer) landscape, it’s an anomaly to witness someone who lives way beyond advocacy to the extent that he does- he’s now the validator for the brand, a conduit for its ongoing relevance.

Bobbito @ Tompkins Park from suitsiswatching on Vimeo.

After his monologue, we boarded the bus again somewhat reassured enlightened, and were off to destination #2. After about 10 minutes, we pulled up in front of an unmarked building (for a brand that owns the world’s most iconic logo, it sure has a fixation with unmarked sh*t), boarded an elevator, took it to the 6th (or 3rd- I can’t remember) floor, and walked down the hall into a studio…where Clark Kent was waiting for us. In the same vain as Bobbito, he kept the evening’s program going by offering his unique perspective on Ones. He also broke down his next collaboration with the brand, and per his request, I won’t go into it. But it’s ill. Like super dope ill.

After about 30 minutes in the studio, we got on the bus again for what would be our last stop of the evening- Crif Dogs/PDT in the Village. I’d never been, but I heard about it, and I was pretty hungry. So I OD’ed. At the end of the night, they gave us each a pair of the buttas.

The above slideshow has all the evidence. (I had no idea what I was getting into, so all I had to boot was my iPhone. It was pretty dark throughout, so apologies for the less-than-spectacular imagery- you can check Yoshi’s pics and account of the evening here…)

In retrospect, it was very well-presented, and impressive shot in the arm to the unique culture that was bred, and still lives, here. Peace to Heron, Kristen, Will, Will P., Jonathan Mannion, Va$htie, Chad, Scott, Yoshi, Susana, Bradley C., Chris Vidal, Paul Rivera, and shouts to NSW x 94×50 – you guys really bodied that, and illustrated a sensibility and passion that usually gets lost within the process.

Salsa in the 70s. Punk & Hip-Hop in the 80s.

New York City is undeniably responsible for spawning the modern world’s most definitive art forms. The aforementioned movements (for all intents and purposes we won’t refer to them as simply genres of music) were all byproducts of social expression in its most pure form, became organically popular, than through engineered ubiquity reached critical mass. Such was the cycle all beginning with the most simple of ideas. (Note: no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t edit the post to wreak any less of “V For Vendetta”. My bad.)

And that’s the heritage of this city. At least until recently.

In this information-starved, everyone’s-quick-to-assign-titles-to-themselves-because-nobody’s-looking landscape that we live in, something got lost. Ideas have been reduced to mere chatter because there’s too many being spread around without discerning taste. Collectively, a lot of media + marketing professionals in New York have forgotten what matters, only seeking out what’s “now”, regardless of its origin. Too many “tastemakers”, not enough people to adhere and fill the void.

Where has that left us? Micro is seemingly becoming the new macro, and “local has inherently become the new global” (according to world-class trend forecaster Marian Salzman).

That being said, I’ve been paying more attention to the “un-obvious obvious”- the contributions of friends, colleagues, and acquaintances- and have come to the conclusion that it’s a good time to be here. In New York City. Unless you’re in the Bronx.

(Just kidding.)

For the first time in a long time, individual efforts are becoming more fluid and running parallel with each other, and the right people are crossing paths more often- all signs of a (dare I say it) cultural boom that will define a generation of Millenials looking to set standards and reconcile them with traditional standards of success. All of the people in the image above are more than colleagues of mine; they’ve made sacrifices so that they can contribute to culture, and I know this because I know them and peep game. You should as well, because they are the ones- in my humble opinion- who have stepped it another level, meditated like a Buddhist, and will continue giving everyone proof that these are the times to value being here.

Over the next few months, their efforts will be chronicled here in efforts to shed light what. it. is…

SUITS!

(Sickamore, Mel D. Cole, Maluca, The Kid Daytona, Uproot Andy & Geko Jones, GFCNY, Zandile Blay, 13th Witness, Sherlen Archibold, Willis The Barber, Kenji Summers, Outasight, William Yan, RTNC, ArtekNYC, LV The Stylist)

Theeee Yankees Win! from suitsiswatching on Vimeo.

Pardon my metropolitan bias, but for the first time in a long time, it’s Gotham United.

For a while now, we’ve seen signs that New York City is on the verge (or currently experiencing, based on your opinion), a generation-defining cultural boom. Bloomie’s re-upped, Hov is making his bid to be the next icon of the Rotten Manzana (we’ll see what happens), and what seems to be- at least I hope- of a resurged interest in the arts have made NY the center of the universe (at least for now).

(Now if we could only fix Williamsburg.)

This week was testament to that, and seeing the city’s display of pride the last few days (largely due to the Yankees winning their 27th) has spoke volumes about what’s to come. Looking forward to the next 18.

SUITS!